The Offer
by Shadow DelaSangre
Summary: One Shot. Rating is to be safe. After another minor exchange, Forte begins questioning why he cannot beat Rock, until an offer is made.


When I wrote this piece, I based Blues on Proto Man from the American show, though Forte is strictly from the game. All reviews are appreciated, be honest.

The Offer Shadow DelaSangre 

The echo of footsteps fade as the figure continues on its journey. Left behind, an even darker figure lies on the ground, defeated, maybe even dead.

The body remains still, and with the little light nothing can identify it except perhaps what hit it before. An animal approaches, possibly a dog, but the light gave no guarantees. The animal looms over the figure, silent. It lowers its head, and licks the face of the downed figure. The right arm twitches, and soon the figure regains consciousness. From the grunts of the lowly figures efforts, the person is identifiable as male. He tries to sit up, and as he does an object lands on the ground with a hollow clank, echoing throughout the alley. The item, unmistakable to the man, lies on the ground, an object of abnormal structure.

"Good boy," the man grunted. His voice was masculine, but not booming. It hid a light accent, one only identifiable if paying close attention. The dog beside him caressed his face, and the man showed affection for it back before attempting to stand. Slowly he gets to his feet. Once steady, he reaches his left hand to his chest. He let out a sigh. "Minimal damage. Hmm... Lucky shot." The dog looks up at his master, waiting for his next move.

The man looks ahead and spots a streetlight. He lifts his arm as to aim. From the shadows echo a discharge as if from a cannon, and the post bend from where the blast hit it. Sparks flew as it landed on some power lines, lighting up the face of the man. He was Asian, with markings on his face, leading to his eyes. The light post still shines, the light illuminating the paw of his dog. The man goes for the object on the floor, the dog trailing. Standing partially in the light, this dog was no dog; its fur is purple. Whatever it was, it was not normal.

The man retrieved the object on the floor, placing it upon his head. He walks over to some wooden boxes and sits, his pet close-by. Where this animal stands, it is now fully visible.

The man scratched behind the neck of the purple wolf. It turned so the master could scratch just the right spot. "Tell me, Gospel," the man looked down at the wolf. Gospel gave a little whine. "Tell me, how does he do it?"

The man's caresses continued on Gospel's face. The wolf licked the hand of his caretaker. His master let out a chuckle, and pet Gospel in attempts to clean off any saliva. On his arm was a strange contraption. It was somewhat bulky, but he didn't seem to mind it was there. The man looked at Gospel, "Hmm... At least you care. At least.

I don't get it, Gospel," The man stood as he spoke, Gospel eager to follow. Standing in the light, He seemed to be wearing some heavy armor, all black with orange streaks every so often. All that bulk appeared to be a heavy burden for any man, yet he wore it with no trouble. The man continued on, "He built me specifically to rid him of that blue headache. I was designed like he was. I even got you to contradict that mutt of his! I was Wily's greatest creation!"

"The greatest?" The man lifted his arm in the direction of the voice, Gospel ready to strike as well. Standing on top of the building was yet another man. He hid well in the shadows, yet there was something unmistakable about him. Around his neck waved what would appear to be a scarf.

The Asian lowered his arm, muttering, "Blues."

The figure named Blues jumped down, landing without harm. "Hello, Forte. How are ya?"

The man named Forte looked at Blues with disgust. "Since when do you care?"

"That hurts, Forte. C'mon, I see you as sort of a... half brother. You're family to me. And we share one thing in common." Forte merely lifted an eyebrow. "We both want to get rid of my little brother." Forte stayed silent. It's true how they both wanted to get rid of Rockman, but it was also true that each one wanted to make the final blow, saying that they defeated him.

"Blues, is there a special reason as to why you're here?" Forte wasn't planning on staying here long.

"Well, I figured we could help each other. We could be unstoppable together. Think about it."

"No."

"No? No what?"

"My only partner is him." Forte pointed down to his pet. "I don't need another, thank you." Forte turned around. "Come on, Gospel." The two began to walk away, leaving Blues behind.

Blues took a step forward, standing in the light for the first time. For the most part, his body was red and grey, his armor was slick and not as bulky as Forte's. His helmet was simple, red but with a visor. The real difference, however, was the yellow scarf he wore; it's what stood out the most. He yelled out to Forte, "What makes you think you could defeat him alone? You couldn't even defeat King alone. He had to help you." If Blues was still planning to charm Forte, he was certainly doing a bad job of it. "Come on, Forte! Can't you trust me? I see you as family."

Forte immediately stopped. "Family? Let me tell you something about family." There was a moment where nothing, not even the wind, would dare challenge the silence. Forte slowly turned around. Suddenly, the silence was shattered, as a furry of blasts made contact with Blues on the chest. Blues was down, his energy depleted down to a dangerous level. Smoke appeared from where the blasts landed. Standing where he was, Forte lowered his arm. "I don't trust mine."

Forte continued on his way, Gospel by his side. At this time of night, the streets were empty, but Forte still walked in the shadows. He looked up at the sky, the full moon now becoming visible. Forte stared out into it, the silver glow of the moon reflecting his eyes.

After a long moment, Forte looked at Gospel. "I wonder if he seriously thought I'd work with him." Gospel looked up at his master, confused. "You know I'd rather work with Rockman again that with him." Forte seemed to shudder saying that. He had worked with Rockman once before. Never again he told himself.

Gospel nuzzled Forte's leg. Forte let out a smile, then looked up again. "He can't win 'em all, Gospel." His gaze never left that moon, determination spreading through him like wildfire. "He will be defeated. And I, no, we will be the ones do it." He finally looked back at Gospel. "You and me."


End file.
